Grannie’s Crack Aboot The Famine In Auld Scotlan’ In 1739-40 (Janet Hamilton Poems)
"Oh saw ye e'er sic witless bairns, Sic wasterie o' blessin's gien?Oh had they dree'd what we ha'e dree'd, Oh had they ...
Janet Hamilton Poems on Hope (22 Poems)
Memories (Janet Hamilton Poems)
Lonely musing, sadly thinking,Strength and spirits failing, sinking,Drooping, shivering, cow'ring, shrinking, In the wintry blast.Winds are howling, roaring, screaming,Thunder rolling, lightning ...
Cousin Aggie: A Memory (Janet Hamilton Poems)
The seal of sixty summers now,Cousin Aggie, marks thy brow,If beneath Canadian skiesStill thou livest. Mayhap thou liesWithin the forest's ...
Elegy (Janet Hamilton Poems)
"Where are ye, friend of my youth? And echo answered, 'Where!'"Where are ye, dear companions of my youth? I gaze around and ...
To The Rev. John James (Janet Hamilton Poems)
On His Going Out To CanadaArise, for this is not thy rest; go forthAnd brave the frozen rigours of the ...
The Mourning Mother (Janet Hamilton Poems)
What woe is thine, pale mother?—sayWhat grief devours thy heart? For ayeThy looks averted shun the day,And midnight sees thee ...
Addressed To Mr. John Fairlie (Janet Hamilton Poems)
Calling a world to arms—I hear from farThe pealing clangours of the trump of war;The horizon political flames forthHer angry ...
The Sunday Rail: II (Janet Hamilton Poems)
A Scottish Summer Sabbath MorningThe still repose, the holy calmOf this blest morn, a sacred balmSheds on my world-worn weary ...
The Midnight Vigil (Janet Hamilton Poems)
Mournful, sighing, sadly weeping,Sleepless 'midst a household sleeping;Midnight's lonely vigil keeping, Darkling and alone;From my sore each friend and loverStand aloof, ...
America In 1863: Her “Voice Is Still For War” (Janet Hamilton Poems)
Still beyond the wild AtlanticWeeping Peace, dishevelled, frantic,Shrieking, flies from shore to shore,Hearing still the cannons roar—Seeing through the skies ...
The Seven Stars: A Constellatio (Janet Hamilton Poems)
BEATTIE.Sweet minstrel! from thy hermit's cell Rich strains of sacred truth are flowing,The haughty sceptic's pride to quell; Thy harp is tuned ...
Lines (Janet Hamilton Poems)
She comes, she comes—all right, all well!Thank God! thank God! the fearful spellThat chilled our hearts is broke; no more,On ...
Lines Addressed To The Rev. Dr. John Muir, of St. James’ Parish, Glasgow (Janet Hamilton Poems)
Servant of God! through fifty honoured years,With fears and hopes, with prayerful cries and tears,With watchful care and ever-active zeal,With ...
The Victim of Drink: The Early Lost (Janet Hamilton Poems)
The early lost I mourn, Ah, not the early dead;The early lost return, Young hope's fair blossom shed. Gone up like dust.Oh, deeper ...
“Words of Comfort” (Janet Hamilton Poems)
"Words of Comfort," they are come, Rich in many a tender token,Weeping love and mothers' woe, Deeply felt and fitly spoken."Words of ...
The Mother At Home (Janet Hamilton Poems)
A voice deep and solemn is sounding abroad;Oh mothers of Britain! each humble abodeShould echo the burden with which it ...
To William Logan (Janet Hamilton Poems)
On the Death of his aged Mother.Mourn not, my Christian friend:—thy late removed,Thy sainted mother, cherished and beloved,In Jesus fell ...
To Teachers of The Young (Janet Hamilton Poems)
Husbandman, for work prepareTender plants of promise fair;Rise! around thee everywhereLife's young spring-time claims thy care, Willing heart, and hand.Dig, manure, ...
The Servant of The Lord (Janet Hamilton Poems)
Servant of God! thy soul's pure spring of lifeDisturb, defile not, with unholy strife;Gentle to all, as it becomes thee ...
Address To The Rev. Dr. Gardner of Bothwell (Janet Hamilton Poems)
On Completing The Fiftieth Year of His MinistryPastor revered, beloved! the Muse would fainJoin on fair "Bothwell banks" the jubilant ...
To Mrs. J. Cleland (Janet Hamilton Poems)
On The Death of A Beloved Son and Only ChildMy olive plant, so green and fair;My budding hope, my dearest ...
Be Hopeful: IV — The Resume (Janet Hamilton Poems)
Be hopeful, sweet singer; man may not raiseTo lays that thou pourest high peans of praise:The nightingale's song will ever ...